Dream Fiction - Sarah Paulson
by streeper3925
Summary: I've started a new thing for my lovely Instagram followers :)


I could feel her fidgeting beside me. I glanced up to see her bottom lip being completely overtaken by her nibbling teeth. She was nervous. Beyond nervous. I gave our intertwined hands a gentle squeeze and her eyes found mine. I smiled softly and brought my right hand, my free hand up to run my thumb across her worried lips.

"They're going to love you, I promise. How could they not?"

Her lips parted for me then before coming together slightly and kissing the pad of my thumb. Still holding each other's eyes, she gave me a soft smile in return and I couldn't even help it when I leaned into her and captured those deliciously supple lips between my own. God, she always smelled so _good_. And always, always tasted like honey. My body reacted instantly and I mentally counted the steps it would take to throw her on the couch and ravish every inch of her with my mouth. _No. _I backed away before I lost control of myself and she bit back a laugh at my suddenly ragged breathing. She knew the affect she had on me. She loved to take advantage of that daily. Well, at least I helped her with her nervousness. Now I just had to control my flooring arousal and not jump her and completely ruin the purpose of our visit to my parents' house. We were standing in the living room, near the coffee table waiting while my mother "went upstairs to get my father." She had offered, demanded really, that we make ourselves at home but Sarah had been too high strung to even move so we remained standing. Footsteps made their way down the stairs. I felt her stiffen beside me and all that nervousness I had mollified came flooding back into her body tenfold. I instinctively knew rather than saw that she was biting her lip again. I ran my right hand, my free hand down to our intertwined hands and stopped when I reached the base of her wrist. I could feel the sharp thud of each pulse against my thumb and caressed the pad of it against her skin, softly, gently. I gave a final squeeze, a reassurance that everything would work out just as my father said, bellowed really,

"And who might this be?"

I felt Sarah flinch. My dad had turned the intimidation knob up to full blast, apparently. My parents were standing side by side at the foot of the stairs. Not touching, never touching. It had been long since the day they touched one another anymore. A faint and very familiar twinge of pain raced through my heart and for a second my grip on Sarah's hand slackened before I quickly recovered and danced my thumb across her knuckles. If she noticed, she didn't show it. If anything, I would have guessed she wasn't noticing anything but the sound of blood rushing through her veins. Or maybe that was just me. But, nope. The pulse against my thumb, if possible, became quicker and I would have bet all my Meryl Streep memorabilia that even the next door neighbors could feel the nervous tension rolling off Sarah's petite little body in waves. I felt her begin to twirl the ring wrapped around my finger (a habit she had picked up just recently whenever we held hands) and she shifted even closer to me, our body's now flush together. My own heart leapt and sped up, seemingly trying to match that of the woman standing so closely next to me. Protectively, I released our hands and wrapped my left arm around her waist. Never taking my eyes off of my parents. I saw a quick flash of realization flicker through the hazel flecked irises in my father's eyes as he tracked the movement. My mother had gone a few shades lighter…she almost looked as pale as Sarah. Which was shocking in and of itself for my mother was tan enough to be confused as a Hispanic woman.

I began drawing random shapes on the side of Sarah's hip, focusing on the warm skin beneath her silk green blouse, both trying to calm myself and her. I took a deep breath and suddenly I wasn't nervous anymore. Trepidation fell off of me like a winter coat falling to the ground. I was standing next to the woman I planned on spending the rest of my life with. I was in love with this woman. This woman was in love with me. I had her. She was mine. I was hers. No one, _no one _was going to change that, _could _change that.

I looked directly into my father's eyes and with a voice clear and unwavering and very, _very_ proud, I said,

"Dad, this is Sarah….my fiancé."


End file.
